Now What, 13 and ?

I’ve now digested the new Black Sabbath album, 13, a few times, after having listened to Now What [punctuation arbitrarily truncated hereinafter], the new Deep Purple album.  Verdict?  Both are excellent, but some caveats are in order.  Read on…

Now What is the second album from what I call Deep Purple Mark VII (not counting the Battle Rages On tail-end touring lineup with Joe Satriani filling in for Ritchie Blackmore’s obligations as a separate lineup, as no new material was released with Mr. Joe).  This is Ian Paice (drums), Don Airey (keyboards), Roger Glover (bass), Ian Gillan (vocals) and Steve Morse (guitar).  With Jon Lord’s retirement (R.I.P.) this makes Ian Paice the only original member left who has served in all Marks of the band.

DP w/Morse has forged its own sound, which has more in common with DP Mark II.1 (Perfect Strangers) than Mark II.0 (In Rock, Fireball, Machine Head and Who Do We Think We Are).  I don’t think they could make Machine Head II even if they wanted to. 

            Here’s the sad thing about Steve Morse.  To the extent he has his OWN guitar style, it’s an annoying widdly-widdly noodling I can’t stand.  But when he slows down and gets bluesy – hmmm, that’s more like it.  In fact, he out Blackmores Blackmore himself.  I can understand that he’s not Blackmore and wants to get out from under the shadow of the man, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s just as good as Blackmore at doing the same type of guitar work as Blackmore himself.  I’d just as soon he continue to out Blackmore Blackmore.  Examples?  “Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming” (Purpendicular) and “Blood From A Stone” (Now What).

13.  This is more substantial:  Black Sabbath’s first new album with Ozzy Osbourne since Never Say Die in 1978.  He rejoined the Sabs for one-off performances at Live Aid in 1985, another show in 1992, and the Ozzfests from 1997 to 2005.  They even made two new songs, “Psycho Man” and “Selling My Soul”, tacked on to 1998’s Reunion live album, though neither was particularly impressive.  Prior efforts to make a new album fizzled out, with Rick Rubin consistently demanding to produce it.  Finally they came together to do it.  Ronnie James Dio's abrupt death from cancer, followed by Iommi's own diagnosis of lymphoma, provided the firm incentive to get this done, and thankfully they have.

Bill Ward is not on this album.  From what Ozzy and Tony say, Ward wanted 25% of the cut despite being borderline useless even in the studio and highly questionable to tour the album.  Brad Wilk of Rage Against the Machine handles the drums.  I still don’t know who will be handling drums on the upcoming tour, assuming it’s not Wilk himself.  To be honest, I can’t really tell much of a difference.  I’d just as soon they play with any competent drummer than pack it in simply because Ward has gotten too old to play.

As with Deep Purple, I don’t think Sabbath could make Sabotage II even if they wanted to, although many parts of this album do sound very similar to classic era Sabbath.  The songs are heavy, the lyric are cynical, and it all comes together yet again.  Like Now What, this has to be judged on its own merits.  Or does it?  It’s better than Never Say Die or ANY of the Tony Martin albums.   I find it compelling; and I look forward to seeing them in concert this summer.

Led Zeppelin.  Now this leaves Zeppelin as the only one of the big three not releasing new material.  Their last release of new material was 4 Moroccan-type songs on the live album No Quarter from 1994, which was itself a Page-Plant operation without John Paul Jones.  Later they played a live show with JPJ and Jason Bonham, since released as Celebration Day, but still won’t put out any new material.  Probably they can trust Jason to do his father’s drum parts but don’t feel comfortable with the kid’s ability to assist in writing new material they can put the Led Zeppelin name on – of course, In Through The Out Door was somehow acceptable.  Mind you, by now Jason Bonham has been with several bands writing new material, including no less than three albums with Black Country Communion.

Page, Plant and Jones should find a suitable drummer (Ginger Baker?) and crank out a new album.  Is ANYONE expecting something as good as Zeppelin IV?  Probably a few clueless idiots.  Who cares about them?  It doesn’t have to beat Zep IV, it only has to beat Presence and In Through The Out Door.  How hard can that be?

Smoothies

Sometime before Christmas, my GF and I saw an infomercial for the NutriBullet, a newer type of blender which claimed to be more effective than previous models at making smoothies.  The presentation was as slick and persuasive as any other.  I got her a NutriBullet for her birthday (after Christmas), and she responded by getting me one for my birthday as well (in January).

Since then, I’ve been having smoothies for breakfast practically every morning.  Unfortunately I’ve yet to come across a mix which tastes good, so I’m usually simply chugging it as quickly as possible – depending on how thick the mix ends up being.

The NutriBullet is certainly effective at mixing completely different ingredients into a uniform oozy form of goo.  That’s the most fun part about it: seeing it blend all those into a consistent mess.

I remember an Asterix story, “The Laurel Wreath”, in which he and Obelix concoct a noxious soup or stew from literally everything they could find in the Romans’ kitchen, hoping to horrify their owners enough to sell them to someone else.  But the mixture proves to be a surprisingly effective cure for hangovers, which is just what the Roman family’s prodigal son requires.  Plan backfire!  D’oh!

While I can’t say I’ve done that, I have experimented with different mixtures.  I’ve added bananas, green apples, blackberries, strawberries, pineapple, raspberries, oatmeal, olive oil, coconut, almonds, and kale.  Protein powders can go in, but don’t taste very good.  Bananas tend to make the whole damn thing taste like bananas.  Of course, you can also add alcoholic beverages for cocktails, but carbonated beverages are off limits.

The primary boast for smoothies is improved health and energy, and losing weight, but as yet I’ve seen little evidence of either after 6 months of these bizarre veggie shakes.  Perhaps others will see a benefit I’ve yet to notice. 

A Time To Love And A Time To Die

This was a movie I’d seen part of on cable years ago, but it’s not on Netflix, so I had to buy the DVD itself – fortunately it wasn’t particularly expensive.  It’s based on a novel by Erich-Maria Remarque, better known as the author of All Quiet on the Western Front.  He actually appears in the film as Professor Pohlmann.

The story takes place in 1944 during World War II.  A young German soldier, Ernst Graeber (John Gavin), finally gets his 3 week furlough approved – he hasn’t been home for two years.  But when he arrives at his home town, he finds half of it obliterated, including his own family home.  His parents are missing, but he eventually gets word that they’re alive but relocated somewhere else.  Presumably, due to the chaos of the war – and the very likely invasion of the Red Army into Germany [one soldier jokes that the way the war is going, they’re likely to be in Germany without needing a furlough] – a reunion will have to wait until the war is over…if ever.

Meanwhile he meets Elizabeth Kruse (Lilo Pulver), the daughter of local Dr. Kruse.  The doctor himself has been sent to a concentration camp; his fate is unknown.  After some initial mutual antipathy (“love at first hate” yet again) they fall in love and get married.  As a soldier’s wife she gets 200 RM a month and a death benefit if he’s killed.  But they honestly love each other.  Why not?  He’s a tall, handsome guy and she’s pretty cute.  They’re actually romantically compatible after all.

There is no shortage of intriguing characters:  Sgt. Boettcher, who’s also on leave trying to find his 200 lb. “Helga” of a wife, Alma; Ernst’s school chum Oscar Binding, the local party chief, who was a dropout loser in school – he even got their beloved Professor Pohlmann sent to the camps (briefly, just to teach him a lesson); eccentric Corporal Reuter, who lends Ernst his stunning corporal’s uniform (made by a general’s tailor) and sends him off to the one surviving four star restaurant in town, Germania, for a date with Elizabeth; Professor Pohlmann himself; and even a cynical, brutal SS officer who brags of murdering Jews stacked up in a “layer cake”.  Klaus Kinski is in here, as a Gestapo officer who gives Ernst a package for Elizabeth.

Aside from the SS officer, and to a lesser extent Binding (who simply seems eager to brag to Ernst about his connections and benefits, the closest thing to a Peter Keating this story has) most of the Germans come off as fairly sympathetic.  There’s even a barber early in the film who gives Ernst a shave:  my Uncle Jeff, a non-actor in a movie role that even gives him a few lines.  It was worth seeing the film just to see his screen time, as modest as it was.  R.I.P., Uncle Jeff.

Affectations

I once asked my father what an “affectation” was.  He explained it was something superfluous, fancy, or pretentious, like a monocle, or a general using a swagger stick.  Patton was famous for his chrome plated helmet and pearl-handled revolvers, while MacArthur was famous for his equally plain uniform, aviator sunglasses and corncob pipe.  Opposing generals Montgomery (UK) (sweater and beret) and Rommel (Nazi Germany) (trench coat and British goggles on his German visor cap) likewise indulged in this business.  Von Mackensen (August, not his son Eberhard), affected the huge busby with the skull and crossbones, but he only served in World War I.  Probably the most affected of the German generals was Reichmarshall Herman Goering, commander of the Luftwaffe, with his sky blue uniform and baton, among other trappings.

Generals by no means have any monopoly on this.  Among the high class, a monocle (single eyeglass), spats, ascot, etc. remain rare but obvious upper class affectations.  These days the #1 affectation is probably grooming:  bald with a goatee, a look reinforced by Bryan Cranston as Walter White on “Breaking Bad”, also embraced by Andy Powell of Wishbone Ash and Rob Halford of Judas Priest – even used by John Travolta in “From Paris With Love”.  Ayn Rand’s affectation was the FDR-esque cigarette-though-a-holder deal, odd given how much she disliked FDR and his socialist agenda. 

I suppose slavish adherence to fashion doesn’t really qualify as an affectation: if everyone else is doing it, how special can it be?  Pants pulled down two inches below the boxers; Timberland boots not even laced up; baseball cap either backwards or raised up with the brim off-center; and – although I don’t hate the team – the ubiquitous NY Yankee logo, particularly on a cap.  I understand the Yankees have won more World Series than any other team, and have lost more than the second place champion, the St Louis Cardinals, but why don’t we leave the NY logo to true Yankees fans?

I can’t claim to be immune to this: my own affectation is wearing soccer jerseys, and sometimes of mutual rivals (Flamengo & Fluminense, Schalke & Borussia Dortmund, various Premier League rivals) – not necessarily just one team, or even one team per league.  It’s not even just the most popular or well-known teams, such as Manchester United, Real Madrid, Barcelona, or AC Milan, but also some of the more obscure European teams, and the Brazilian teams.  Guilty as charged. 

But this is a much less controversial affectation than my high school preference: a World War II German service jacket, first with Wehrmacht insignia, then Waffen SS (Das Reich, NOT Totenkopf or Einsatzgruppen).  I’ve always wanted a 1936 pattern jacket, and At The Front has them for a reasonable price.  But where could I wear it?